Winter's Orphans
by BlackCurrants
Summary: On July 31st, 1981, there was a tragic kidnapping. On October 31st, 1981, the person was never mentioned again. His name was forgotten and his identity remains a well kept secret. Ideally, secrets never do last long.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I know, I'm a horrible writer. Whenever I get a plot bunny I just need to write it down. I can't get it out of my head and continue writing my other stories unless I finally get the first chapter done. Harhar, hopefully this kind of thing doesn't happen when I become an actual writer XD.

Kisses and Hugs,

BC

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the fabled, magical world that is London before the Great War began, there lived, in a Grand House that stood at the top of the vast hills of Kensington, a household that could have had no wrong.

Through the golden gates that surrounded the impressive dwelling was thirty-five acres worth of land that bordered from the front to the back yards. Along the ice-blue stream that ran steadily across the large courtyard were ducks and swans, fiddling and swimming in flocks. Greek statues and Parisian rose bushes donned the lovely gardens around the front patio. In the backyard was a small cottage connected prior to a garden shed that grew hundreds of exotic blossoms.

The manor was heavily adorned with expensive fittings. The dining room glowed with hundreds of candle-lit diamond chandeliers, its library was tiled in expensive jade glass, and the bedrooms were delicately furnished in Persian carpets, Egyptian crafted beds, and Bohemian sewed blankets.

James and Lily Potter possessed— in addition to the ten digit numberings of their bank accounts, the elegant fifty-roomed manor, and the priceless family heirlooms that would have had enviable collectors eating out of there hands for a peek— there was also a family-named manor in Godric's Hallow, the penthouse in Muggle London, the estates in Birmingham and Yorkshire, the winter home in Manchester, and the sea-side summer castle on an island off the coast of Dublin. In spite of such riches Merlin had generously smothered them with in an almost comical abundance, there was only one true treasure that both of them could not have lived without. Well in this case, two treasures.

"Look at them James. Aren't they just the most darling things that's ever graced this planet?"

Two pairs of doe-like orbs gazed up at her from their enormous blue-ribboned crib. Both of them were dark-haired, red-cheeked, and almost identical in every way, save for their eyes. The first on the left was filled in with a rich emerald-green that was equal to Lily's own jewel-like orbs while his brother on the right matched his father's more russet brown.

"Yes, Dear. They are quite the pair, aren't they?" Came the tender reply.

Within the past few weeks of their hospital release, Mrs. Potter had kept an adoringly protective eye on both her sons. Hadrian, the brown-eyed babe, she concluded, was truly the more leading one- Brave, calm, gentle, and graceful, without a doubt shocked both parents as they watched him walk his very first steps at three months old. Unlike his brother; Harry was timid, clumsy, and loathed being in the spotlight, favoring to scuttle awkwardly behind Hadrian to hide himself whenever he felt uneasy. The brown-eyed twin did not mind in the least, already implying protectiveness over his brother.

Mrs. Potter cooed at them once more and the tots responded through small incoherent noises. Promptly looking at each other, they proceeded to happily go back to their little games. James gazed on with an affectionate laugh. He adored them just as much as his wife. In fact, as soon as he had gotten the pair home, he made it his responsibility to spoil the two rotten. Showering the infants with teddy bears, toys, popular modeled cribs, baby rattles, books- heck, he even decorated their whole nursery before Lily could put in a word. Much to his wife's amusement, he himself enjoyed beautifying his babies' nursery room and with that completely embarrassing end to his thought, he decided it was best kept a secret. Sirius, the conniving dog, would never let him live it down if he knew.

Hadrian and Harry; together they were angelic, captivating, and breathtakingly incandescent which easily earned them the loveliest of endearments from both doting parents. 'Angels', 'Little Darlings', and others echoed repeatedly through the nursery.

Harry silkily giggled and ruffled Hadrian's brusquely short baby hair. Hadrian calmly sat there and let his brother play with him in whatever way he wanted, occupying himself by gazing at the colorful pictures in his book.

Seconds into their playtime, a momentary flush of exhaustion took them and both gave out soft, tired yawns. Unconsciously hugging one another, Harry grasped Hadrian's waist with one hand and delicately held his snow-white teddy bear with the other before shutting his eyes. Hadrian casually stared at his brother before also drifting off.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

On the day of their namesake, a huge bash was made in celebration for their first year. Lily donned both of them in adorable, miniature suits and carried them down into the glittering ballroom. Aurors, Politicians, and other important figures paused their conversations and flashed their eyes appreciatively at the Lady of the house who was stunningly clothed in green satin to contrast her lovely garnet locks. Their searching gazes dropped curiously onto the two babies and the majority grinned in jubilance. It was the twin's first debut to the public and the populace could not deny that both were enchanting: Healthy buttermilk skin, sweet smiling dimples, and illustrious raven black hair.

"Oh their precious Lily!"

"Two sons, James? You lucky bastard!"

The room rang with praises and congratulations and applauses to the beaming couple. Still possessed in their mother's arms, Hadrian and Harry unpretentiously gazed at the different range of people of whom they had never even met. Harry shyly jerked away from a woman who tried to touch him and instinctively hovered towards his brother. The tall, cumbersome woman's brow furrowed in disbelief which only earned her a seething expression from Hadrian; his shoulders turned rigid and he scruffily gnashed his lips into a glare. Possessively wrapping his arms around his brother, he warily watched the indignant woman slowly pull away, "Quite shy, aren't they?" The woman stiffly lisped at Lily.

"Well, they are young. It'll take a while for them to get used to other people."

The gentle statement was met by an annoyed harrumph from the former as she steadily turned her head and stalked away. Lily narrowed her eyes in fury as she glared at the back of the woman's rather large head, who the hell did that woman think she was and how dare she sneer at her children? In fact, who were half the people in this bloody room! Not to put a damper on her babies' happy day, she flipped her frown upside down and strolled towards her husband who was currently conversing with the Minister for Magic.

"So I told him that the dung beetles weren't on the ground anymore, it was on him!" The group exploded in laughs as James spotted her and grinned, "Hello, Darling. You look beautiful, as always," Came the husky response.

"Hello Minister. James dear, I need to speak with you." She pronounced with a light grin plastered on her face.

"Of course, Darling. If you'll please excuse us Minister."

Lily bestowed both Harry and Hadrian into a kiddy corner and dragged James to one of the abandoned refreshment tables. She immediately narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms, even tapping her left leg in impatience as she evaluated her husband. The light tapping sounds reverberated from the flat side of her red high heels.

"What is it Lily Flower?" James hesitantly asked, knowing the all too familiar look of his wife's anger. She had had stabbed him with that particular expression multiple times when they were young.

"What is it? You ask. This is Harry and Hadrian's first birthday and I told you I wanted a small gathering. Emphasize on the 'small'. Now you tell me who in Merlin's name are half the people in this room!" She furiously whispered, her murderous stare aimed at him.

"Well—,"

"And don't even think about lying James Potter or you'll be finding yourself sleeping on the couch tonight!" She quickly seethed.

"Alright… there was a slight slip up on my part of the guest list as I 'may' have forgotten to limit the number of people my friends could bring, but I had thought it all worked out smashingly in the end." He nervously mumbled, waving his arm at the finely decorated scenery.

She chewed on her bottom lip, emphasizing her anger by clutching her wrist. "Are you kidding me? You purposely—," Cutting herself off from yelling, she gently inhaled before continuing, "Friends, uncles, aunts, cousins, I will gladly accept. Ministry officials, Aurors, fine. But you have clearly crossed the line when you let strangers into our home, much less our sons' birthdays!" She fiercely whispered with a stern expression.

"I know, I know and I'm so sorry Lily Flowers. After this, I'll make sure it won't ever happen again. Ever." He desperately pouted, lightly grasping her waist and bending her into his arms.

Lily sneered a few more minutes before calmly inhaling through her nose. Stopping her routine of slowly breathing in and out, she raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, "You promise?"

"I cross my heart and hope to die."

Her gaze lingered on her husband's handsomely angled face, his gorgeously disheveled black hair, and the nice muscular tone which his body exuded. Fiery heat exploded from her nether regions as her eyes traveled up and down his luscious form. She was so used to the smoldering heat of wanting him, desiring him- and yet even now she couldn't help the surprise that overtook her in moments like this. Five years ago, if someone came up and told her that one day she would end up marrying James Potter, the once egotistical chauvinistic prick, she would've concurrently whipped out her wand and hexed the fool to kingdom come. But now…she just couldn't get enough of him. In the beginning of their seventh year, he had turned over a new leaf: More mature, more sensitive, more elusive, more…well everything, and the rippling realization of her affection had made her helpless with love.

Leaning near his ear she intimately cooed, "Well I hope you keep your promise James Potter, because you're mine. All of you. And you'll be of no use to me if you're dead." Emphasizing her hidden gesture, she languidly slid her tongue at the bottom cleft of his ear. His quiet groan answered her call and his hands sensually slid down her arched back towards her rump.

"Alright break it up you two, there are children present!" A baritone voice lilted teasingly from in front of them. They whipped around and saw Remus Lupin crookedly smiling at them and on his arm hung Sirius Black who looked to be in a teasing mood.

"Always one to ruin a good moment aren't you mate?" James grumbled at Sirius, hesitantly pulling away from his wife.

"You know me Prongs, always one to move in for the kill." The cheery response came, only making James' eyes narrow even more. Remus took this into account and gladly stepped in, "Congratulations James, I'm very happy for you. For both of you." He gently stated, momentarily clapping James on the back before leaning towards Lily and giving her a brotherly hug.

"Well I'm happy. You know I'm happy." Sirius flatly declared, doing the same as well.

"Thanks for coming on such short notice Moony. I know the full moon is in only two weeks away but it means a lot to me to have both of you here. Um, just out of curiosity, where exactly is Wormtail? I haven't seen him the whole night, and I thought he'd come with you?" James inquired, peering around the room.

"Odd, he said he would be here before us." Remus stated.

"Let's just put Wormtail aside for a few minutes. Now, where are my two little munchkins? Their godfather has been dying to see them." Sirius goofily stated, rubbing his left and right hand together.

Lily grinned and pointed her finger in the direction of the kiddy corner, "They're right over th—," She was immediately cut off a harsh cry, "Someone's trying to kidnap one of the Potter twins! There!" The woman who hysterically cried pointed her forefinger at the swarming shadow that was running towards the entrance. Carrying the baby in its right arm, the figure safely dodged many of the hexes and curses already being shot at it from the Aurors.

"Close the doors!" James anxiously shouted, sprinting quickly towards the darkly cloaked figure. He grasped his wand out and sent as many spells and hexes as he could think. He had managed to lightly wound the being's shoulder but it did not waver its effort. And as the doors were about to seal, the unfortunate luck had chosen that time to vindicate them as the figure was able to jump through the small opening, still carrying a crying Hadrian with him. James immediately released the locks, almost slamming the entrance off its hinges. He ran outside to the blistering coldness of mid-June, and there was not a single soul in sight. Not one. However, there was an incongruous note left pinned on the wooden pole of the front porch. Looking down at it, the two black-inked letters were perhaps the most unholy thing he had ever seen. Written on the note were the words, 'I'm sorry.' scrolled in lovely, ominous calligraphy.

On that night, happiness formed into sorrow as Lily and James mourned the loss of half their entire world. Harry stared at the other end of his bed where his brother should've been. Oh yes, he knew something horrible happened. He wondered where his brother was. He kept his gloomy silence, just staring at that particular space until exhaustion overtook him.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

After that horrible event, the nightmare seemed to never end. They had sent out several detectives and inspectors to find their son, but it was for naught. In the end they could only guess that he was lost to them. Not too soon after, the Potters found themselves thrusted into an even harsher reality as they sat down on two wooden stools. Lily stared solemnly at the golden plaque sitting in front of her, 'Headmaster Dumbledore.', it inscribed.

"There has never been a more trying time then after the loss of a loved one. I'm sorry for both of you." Dumbledore exclaimed, sadly frowning at the pair.

"Thank you." James solemnly replied, hugging his wife to him.

"However, we have other matters at hand." He pronounced, jumping already to another topic. "Voldemort is gathering his forces for an ultimate attack, one that would perhaps knock the Wizarding world off its kilter." The bearded man's gaze flashed towards his file drawer before glumly stating, "But it seems we have a conclusive solution."

James and Lily looked up at the old man who was walking towards his drawer. Dumbledore opened it and instantly the gloomily lit room was lightened with blue rays of light. He calmly took out the luminous cerulean orb and showed it to them. "Do you know what this is?"

"It's a prophecy orb." Lily inspected, staring at the glass sphere. The inside seemed to be filled with a liquid whiteness that formed into blurring, murky images.

"Correct as always Lily, and in it contains a specific prophecy I would like both of you to hear." Dumbledore tapped the glass with his wand and suddenly a harkened voice leered outwards from the crystal ball.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...__ Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...__"_

It ended with a lasting word that perched through their minds. Lily stood their, widening her eyes in revelation. Her frown deepened and she frustratingly leaned against the wooden table, holding her head in her hands. Moments of silence passed before she spoke up.

"What does this mean Albus?" She grimly uttered, grasping the edge of the desk with her right hand.

"I think you know exactly what it means, Lily." Dumbledore sadly inclined his head in apologies.

"But…" Her voice began cracking, "He's the only son we have left." Tears filled her emerald orbs as she was enveloped her husband's strong arms. "You have to understand." She desperately sobbed, clutching her husband's suit jacket.

"I know this is hard for both of you as you have recently lost your child, but war does not generously give time nor does it give back lives it has taken. I have lost many of my loved ones as well while in the span of this conflict, but sacrifices must be made for us to put it to rest. It is the child's destiny." He sincerely replied, draping a fatherly hand on both their shoulders.

Lily felt a hand tighten on her own and she peered up at James. His face was solemn, blanched bags under his eyes were obvious from their lack of sleep. She lightly gripped onto his hand as well and grudgingly nodded her head, "What do we have to do?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They sought a secret sanctuary back to the original Potter manor located in Godric's Hallow. Acting on Peter's advice, they had chosen him as their secret keeper as Sirius would've been all too ideal. During that beginning week, Harry cried. And as the seventh day of that heart-rending week came to an end, he stopped. Right at midnight, Lily and James heard the concurrent silence fill the air. At present, they were thankful for a good night's rest, but they didn't expect what would happen next.

The next day, he sat in his crib and leveled off with an emotionless face while holding his snow-white teddy bear like it was his only anchor to the real world.

James and Lily did all they could to make him smile but the former stayed isolated, evading their attempts. They even tried to take the bear away but it only made their son even more miserable. He would shriek until he had it in his hands and then he would cry for another few hours until he slipped off into sleep. The prolonged impassiveness of their darling son was beginning to make them anxious. So anxious, that they decided to hire a Healer. Taking extra precautions, they made him swear to a wizard's oath before proceeding to let him in.

"What's wrong with him?" Lily inquired as she watched the Healer inspect Harry.

"His vital signs are fine… and I see no reason why he is like this…Perhaps… emotional trauma?" Lily and James looked at one another. "You did say he had just lost a twin brother. This could be a result."

"But how could it turn so serious?" James added, stroking his son's cheek.

The healer took off his round spectacles before promptly answering, "Twins, Mr. Potter— especially magical twins— have a strong mental connection to one another. They feel what the other does, sees what the other sees. Their half of each other, and at such a small age, young Mr. Potter has had half of him torn away." He grimly stated, using a small handkerchief to clean his glasses.

"What do we do, doctor?" Lily furrowed her eyebrows and softly glided her fingers over her little boy's hair.

"I'm afraid there is nothing you can do, but wait. As the saying goes, time will heal all wounds. You just need to give him time." Picking up his suitcase, he bid them farewell. Harry was taken up in the arms of his mother and laid in between both his parents. Lily delicately hummed a lullaby and eventually, Harry closed his eyes and slept.

He dreamt of himself, or so he thought. It was cold and dark. A heaving wind kept burning against his cheeks. He thrashed against the arms that restrained him but sooner rather then later, it became warm. Sunlight hit across his pallid face and he found himself in a foreign land, surrounded by fields of daisies and other assorted colors of pinks, yellows, greens, and blues. The finality of the dream had struck him confused, but naivety got the best of him. He was turned around to confront the face of a beautiful person. She pulled down her hood and sadly smiled. Her pale golden hair was ornately decorated and her face was softly angled.

She opened her lips and words sounded out. To Harry it was nothing more than meaningless sounds, but her voice was lovely nonetheless. Much to his pleasure, it was like a compilation of bells and flutes that rang like music to his ears.

"Please forgive me, but I had to save you... You will hopefully understand in the future, Hadrian." She petted his head and began walking out of the field towards a gigantic house that stood in front of them.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Perhaps it was a crucial misunderstanding between the lesser parties that twisted the most famous story of Wizarding time, but the night of Lily and James Potter's death was nothing akin to what other witches and wizards were told. Many excited witnesses wanted a piece in the legendary tale that they jumped to state their claims of what happened, but eventually the family's story was so knotted and tangled that it covered a very important variable. A twin.

On the eve of the couple's death, a heavy storm was brewing near Godric's Hallow. The crash of lightning clapped in the skies above and smoky gray clouds collapsed an atmosphere of darkness and shadows onto the most light-sided of places. Irony it seemed, was working its most bitter of ways. The tall golden gates of the community suddenly rusted in the span of five minutes before exploding off its hinges. Dark cloud-like swirls came from the skies and landed directly in front of the decimated gates. The winds howled and the black cloud transformed itself into a standing body of Tom Riddle.

The Dark Lord stared at the ghastly red and yellow colored community with an expression of clear disgust. Trailing and forming behind him was his fellow Death Eaters, dressed in solid black and their faces were masked with shiny silver guises. Today was the day, he viciously thought, not only would he be able to annihilate the Wizarding world's final false hope, but at long last, he would be able to rule his England threshold with an iron fist. First England, then Europe, and then the whole world would be at his fingertips.

Meanwhile, in the center of Godric's Hollow, James and Lily were staggering in their sprints up the stairs. It had been only seconds ago that they had encountered the disturbing Patronus message revealing that someone had betrayed their location to Voldemort. They knew all too well who the traitor was but didn't have any time to display further shock. The enemy would soon be right at there doorstep, any minute now. Lily pulled her baby into her arms before gazing at James, her tears flowing feely down her cheeks. Her husband gave her a crooked smile, "If this is our last stand, Flowers, let us hit it off with a bang."

She chuckled before sobbing even harder, "James you idiot, how can you still joke at a time like this?"

"Because, I love you." James stated, moving closer to his wife and child. He placed a small kiss on her forehead before moving down to kiss his son's forehead as well.

"I lo—, I love you too." Her voice cracked and desperately clutched onto James. Within a heartbeat they heard a disturbing noise come from outside their home. James moved towards the door but was stopped by a hand tightening on his, "No, James. Please, no." She cried. James softly caressed the soft skin of his Lily's hand. This person that he loved most in the world, that he would do anything for. He wanted to take her tears away and cherish her, and protect her from anything that would hurt her. He lightly took her chin in his, oh how familiar the feeling was. He memorized her face, remembering the long years that led up to his first kiss with her. Leaning in, he softly rubbed his lips against hers and proceeded to lovingly caress her rosy-red cheeks. He kept on kissing her until he once again heard a loud bang reverberate from the front entrances. He unwillingly pulled away.

"Promise me…that you'll keep yourselves safe." James stated, his fingers gently coiling her red locks.

"I promise." She breathed, still gripping her husband's button up.

He heavily inhaled and extricated himself from her reach. Sadly grinning at her, he made his way towards the door with his wand held in his right hand. Lily stood there for a few more moments lulling in despair for her husband before finally crouching down. She placed Harry next to her and started knocking her fist against the crooked wooden floorboards. After two to three punches, she heard an empty 'Clunk' sound. Swiftly pulling the wooden board out, she swiftly took out the items already in there. Wiping at her tear drunken eyes, she calmly placed Harry into the floorboard. He lay there, staring up at her from inside the dark, hollowed out square.

"I love you." She solemnly stated, stroking his soft cheeks. With utter hesitance, she began placing the board back on its floor, but was momentarily stopped by the creaking sound of the nursery door. She whipped her head immediately and widened her eyes in horror, they had come.

She instinctively reached for her wand but it was immediately cast off, ricocheting to the farthest corner of the room.

The dark figure clicked his tongue and approached her, "I have heard of your great intelligence Mrs. Potter, and perhaps you shall be the one to make the smart decision, unlike your husband." He smirked at her, showing off the startling whiteness of his teeth. "Now give us the child Mrs. Potter and I will spare your life."

"I will never!" She screamed, placing herself between her child and the monster. Voldemort's smirk formed into a nonchalant blankness that only a maniac could convey.

"Such insolence could only come from you filthy mudbloods. Then I have no choice but," He raised his wand and uttered the words that had already took the lives of hundreds, if not thousands. "Avada Kedavra!" The shocking green overtook her body and swiftly drained the life from her. There was no pain as her soul streamed out from her body. Within a heartbeat, she found herself finally engulfed in a sinking darkness.

"He is under the floor boards, my Lord."

"Then why are you standing here, Nott? Fetch him." Tom flatly exclaimed. The apparent command was completed and as Tom stared at the boy clutched in his Death Eater's arms, he felt the delicious thrill of his maniacal tendencies. Positioning his wand heartlessly on the boy's forehead he began casting, "Avada Kedavra!"

It happened before anyone could blink an eye. The green ray struck the boy's head but the second before it could impact, a blue shield overtook the small body, covering it in a protective blockage that not only rebounded the killing curse but inflamed the hands of the Death Eater who was carrying him. The altogether magnitude of such a powerful force had thrown the whole house off its hinges. Like a dotted structure, the rooms slowly deteriorated down to small sand particles, also infecting the Death Eaters outside Harry's protective bubble. As the floor slowly disappeared, the shining orb that surrounded Harry floated him safely onto the downstairs ground.

Screams of pain and horror filled the dissipating residence, unknown to such innocent ears. The little boy laid there on the floor, seeing nothing but a radiant whiteness. He was happy though, because he sensed it; the natural, recognizable scent of his twin brother lingered within the complete whiteness. It warmed his insides and he instinctively drifted off as the obliteration of his dwelling had come to a complete halt, leaving only the room that he laid in. Seconds passed and the shield finally disappeared.

Soon after, dozens of uniformed men materialized into the room and discovered the small bundle. The aurors surrounded their captain and watched as the bearded man picked Harry off the ground. He peered under his half-moon spectacles at the lightning shaped scar that now marred the pale skin of the baby's forehead. What did this mean? His twinkling blue eyes flashed towards the floor as his left foot knocked against the familiar dark, black cloak. He widened his gaze and peered back at Harry.

So the prophecy had begun.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Please read and review.


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N.- So I was going to edit this more but I started getting really lazy and I had no idea what to do with the dialogue. This would be perhaps the worse dialogue I've ever written XD, also the cheesiest chapter I've ever written. But oh well. My imagination doesn't want to reform this chapter in any way so this would be the finalized results of a really moody, cold, rainy day inside. With my laptop. For three hours. So Enjoy~**

**BC- XoXo**

_Six years later… in the outskirts of Paris, France. _

It's freezing cold. There was barely any sunlight drifting through the nearby bracketed windows. He was crying again, as he lied on that rickety old bed in that sorry excuse for a room. It was him, he thought, a weaker, smaller version of him. But from the slightest twinkle of those emerald-green orbs, he faltered in his steps closer. He widened his eyes in astonishment.

"Who are you?"

He stared at his dream self and his dream self oddly stared back. His mental repertoire was beginning to confuse him, if not completely freak him out. He made to tread closer, the creaky wooden boards sliding easily underneath the soles of his shoeless feet. However, as he was about approximately three steps away, his body was pulled back by an unseen force. It dragged him out the bedroom door and all he could do was try to keep eye contact as he was hazily knocked out of his reverie.

Opening his eyes, he sneered at the glaring sunlight. Why was it so goddamn bright this morning? Quickly blinking, he peered around the room to inspect for any differences. There was none whatsoever. He had his humongous canopy bed and his room was elegantly furnished and vastly spaced out, like always. Neat, clean, grime-less— unlike that awful room. Finding nothing amiss, he settled down on his satin comforter with a low sigh. Such beautiful green pools that gazed through him as if he was invisible, but at the same moment, noticed him like he was the only light pulsing through the shady darkness. He'd had many dreams of this mysterious stranger, but this was the first instance he'd been able to proceed close enough for a look. Since the beginnings of these peculiar dreams, he had always thought it was himself, or perhaps his future self. Now, he wasn't so entirely certain. One thing reigned true, every time he had these 'nightmares' he found himself waking up drained and awfully tired.

"Darling, are you alright?" The musical voice stemmed from his doorway as he tried to control his breathing. Within minutes, he felt nice, cool fingers delicately run through his shaggy hair. She was dressed beautifully, as always, in one of her delicate summer robes. The incoming wind that drifted through his open balcony concurrently waved her light blonde hair, only adding to her magnificence. Maternal instincts at arms, she wearily gazed at him with a questioning glance. She was his adopted mother and he loved her very much, but sometimes the woman could get a bit too overwhelming.

He deftly leaned, "It was nothing, Mother. Just another bad dream."

"You can tell me anything, Hadrian. You know that." She insistently declared, "Was it the same one?"

"Yes." The somberness was evident in his tone even as he calmly acted as if it was much less than nothing.

"Well…Do you want to talk about it?"

Silently assessing the question, he sternly shook his head, "I don't need too. It's not real after all." He sat up and began pushing down the blankets that somehow ended up wrapped and twisted around his legs as he slept. Passing his mother to get to the bathroom he did not identify the wary frown that blemished her lovely face. In the mid-morning's chill, something caught his interest as he gazed at his face in the mirror. The scar on his forehead was a throbbing red, and oddly warm.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

He carried himself highly, as his mother had taught him. He never lowered his eyes for anyone. It was inept, rude, and a sign of weakness, and Hadrian was never weak. Straightening his back, he strolled towards the grand piano that sat there on the podium, innocently vying for his attention. With an elegance that was due from his upbringing, he gracefully bowed towards the humongous audience before gliding onto the extended stool. Mentally flourishing his études, he instinctively glided his fingers across the keys before thusly beginning what he had titled, Perpetual Sleep.

The haunting, sad melody pealed from the piano strings and echoed throughout the concert hall. The middle chorus strung the song along with a new, genuine tenor that, from his memory, reverted between the contrasting traits of intoxication and liberation of control.

His audience gawked in awe at hearing such raw passion coming from a young boy no older then ten. He didn't care for the wiser and didn't spare a look at the sea of people who were admiring him. The sadness came to him from his heart, it strung him up like a puppet and gave him a song to play. Violence. Fear. Sadness. Anger. It dabbled into his music and as the final string was made, he could begin to hear the roaring claps of the spectators and the un-resting voices that desired an encore. He quietly stepped off the long bench and gave his bow, not before spotting his mother talking to a tall, bird-like woman in the front rows. As he strode off the platform, he was still able to hear little clips of their conversation backstage.

"Ah, c'est vraiment magnifique! Mademoiselle Valentine, your son will be attending at my school Beauxbaton's next year, no?" The bird-like woman inquired gleefully, still clapping her hands.

"Je suis désolé Madame Maxime, mais non. We are moving soon." His mother replied, smiling at the towering Headmistress.

"Oh? Too bad. To where exactly?" the accented English was slurred.

"England."

"England?"

"Precisely, I want him to be able to live in England for a portion of his teenage life; get to know where he came from, find his roots, that sort of thing." She drawled on. "We will be residing in London."

London? Hadrian raised his perfectly arched eyebrow, what in god's name has come over her? Suddenly out of the blue she wants to move to raining, drizzling, moody London when they could stay here in the sunlit part of Europe? This wasn't normal, even for her.

He grasped his coat off the chair rack and dashed in their direction, ignoring all the other exchanging banters that were spoken between him. And as he was a step away from the chattering pair, a firm pain made itself conscious in the deepest depths of his stomach. He stopped mid-way and instantly fell over onto his knees. Panic widened his eyes as he grasped his chest with one hand. He groaned as the painful twinge began to throb. His lips mashed into an expression of pure agony and he could not recall anything but the lasting torture. Receding voices yelled his name but he couldn't tell who was who. An elliptical blackness filled the void of his mind and the last thought that flashed through his head was a mystifying word, name, that he could not evoke:

Harry.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A voice kept calling him and yet his ears only met with silence.

He tried moving his fingers, they were all there. Thank Merlin. Then he tried shifting his toes, apparently they were also still movable. Then he tried repositioning his upper body and instantly winced at the heavy soreness of his chest. He gradually cracked one eye open, then the other, and saw a blank white ceiling towering over him. He moved his head to the side and groaned at the stiffness of his neck. A white curtain covered the whole of his bed and he could hear a distinct conversation happening between his mother and, probably the mediwizard that healed him.

"What's wrong with him? Why hasn't he woken up?" She frightfully yelled in French.

"I assure you Mademoiselle that there is nothing to worry about. He will awake soon enough." The mediwizard replied also in French.

Hadrian opened his lips to answer her weariness but paused when he heard the next few words, "However, whilst he still slumbers, we must discuss what is happening to your son. Tell me, did anything major occur in his past that would lead to this untimely attack?"

A moment later, "I cannot fathom anything that would induce him into such pain. What sort of ailment does he have?"

"Interesting. It just so happens that the healers and I have concluded on a rather interesting result. Your son has been placed under binding magic."

"Binding magic?"

"Yes, an unobstructed kind that was passed on in his infant years. Astonishing really. If true, he would be the youngest wizard to have survived such a powerful infliction."

"That is not possible, I—I've kept him from that! It's just not possible…I raised him!" Hadrian heard her let out a groan of frustration before continuing, "What will happen to him?"

"Binding magic is a type of wild magic that is employed in the sorcery of Wizard's oaths that usually correlates between two magical beings. In your son's case, he would be one of those two, while the second other is someone else. Now, we did a full magic scan and it seems that the scar on his forehead is the connection between the two. It is the object that had initiated the pain but, unfortunately, we cannot remove it without risking the child's death or loss of his magic."

"Then, then what do I do?" She swiftly inquired.

"Hadrian has never shown sign of being hurt until now?"

"Yes, never."

"That deeply concerns me." The mediwizard sighed.

"How come?" His mother grumbled with a hint of irritation.

"Wild magic is not like any other customary type of magic, Mademoiselle. The longer it lays dormant, the more it imbeds itself into the child's mind, body, and soul, causing the reaction to become stronger after every attack."

"Then tell me what to do!" She furiously inquired, tightly grasping her fists.

"I figure the best thing to do would be to find his other link. They are still in the early stages of the binding but to affect Mr. Valentine's well-being so harshly would only mean that whoever is connected to him is in grave danger. And earlier this evening, that person was very close to falling. If they are not able to break the bond then it scares me to say that if one goes, so does the other." The mediwizard ominously finished.

Hadrian widened his eyes— if one goes, so does the other? He definitely did not like the sound of that.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The blisters.

The sores.

Everything hurt so much.

The unadulterated pain that striked at his skull made him cringe with anguish.

Unnerved at the initiate sting of his chest as he tried to get up, he changed his mind and simple laid there, trying to recollect what happened the day before.

He was at school, in the library minding his own business. Then Dudley came along with his gang. And as per-usual, he made to swiftly pack his books into his rucksack and quickly get out. Yells that promised a deadly beating only aided his swift steps, but as he paced in the opposite direction, he peered back to see if they were still chasing him— and there it was, his first mistake. He peered back and promptly bumped his head against a hefty chest, a chest that belonged to Earl Winston, one of the more violent, burly members of his cousin's little group. The brutish-looking boy smirked at him as he instinctively scurried backwards against a wall. No one was there to rescue him, the hallway was completely empty. Soon enough, all of them surrounded him with duly guilt-free smirks.

Dudley stepped forward and just as he was about to strike him, the most unusual thing happened. Dudley's hand pierced quickly through the air, the pending pain made Harry foolishly widen his eyes. An inch or so away…and the fist disappeared— Vanished into thin air along with his cousin's body. Moments of shock passed and at long last came the horrified gasps and shrieks that filled the hallway. Teachers and students popped their heads out of the doors to watch the commotion. Most of Dudley's band ran away with terrified expressions. The left-over stragglers sprinted to the Headmistress's office and reported the incident, also holding Harry accountable. Teacher's defended him of course, already noting the band of miscreants who were involved.

He had to admit it was all well worth the one hour duration it took for the constables to locate poor Dudley. They found his cousin hanging by his under-trousers on top of the school's grand flag pole. The boy was sniveling for all he was worth as the school janitor slowly and carefully got him down. It was beyond comical for Harry, and disgust for every one else, as they stared at the humiliated fat buttocks waving in the air. For every five minutes the old caretaker pulled the strings and lowered Dudley down, he would warily pull up again just to make sure Dudley wasn't going to fall. It was a long and humiliating process for his cousin, and Harry loved every minute of it. His cousin had received his just rewards. Now when they had gotten home, that was another story.

As soon as he got through the front door, being dragged out of the car by the top of his hairs, he was pushed roughly into the basement. He was made to stand as the lashes came. The smacks of the whips against his back stopped and his uncle sadistically smirked, putting on a pair of brass knuckle braces. He was punched and beaten, harsher, faster, and in more brutal ways then he had ever been. And when the man was done, he was left on the cold ground for death. Yet he wasn't dead.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tender cheeks compressed against his chest and the sweet scent of honey suckle delicately preened his senses.

"Vous êtes mon amour. You can't leave me, Hadrian." She leaned further into him and cried into his shirt. Her petite height made it all the easier for him to grasp her waist. He would miss her plenty. They had been childhood friends since he was five. He had attended the Royal Prepatory School for the Early Gifted, as a countenance for his abrupt magic at the age of five and thus, they had met. Five years brought tides of change as their relationship transcended from friendship to innocent, young love.

"I have no choice, Anna."

But we are meant for each other, are we not?" She gazed up at him imploringly.

"Of course, but this is important."

"More important than me? I bet you're going to fall in love with all those other girls in England and forget all about me." She frowned and gloomily lowered her head.

He crisply exhaled before delicately tangling his fingers through her wavy blonde hair. Like ivory and silk dashed in shining luster, he thought to himself. Hadrian lightly dragged his fingertips under her chin and tipped it upwards. Gazing at the deep sapphire pools of her irises, he began to reassure her, "Do not ever doubt that I love anyone other then you. Hopefully, this transfer will only be for a little while. I'll be back before you know it."

"…There's no other girls?" Came the pouting reply.

"None. There's only one. There's only you."

Anna's lovely pink lips curled upwards. They continued standing there in the middle of the train station, completely enamored in each other and absolutely ignorant of the attentive looks they were receiving. As the conductor yelled for the last call, he could do nothing but reluctantly pull away. After this journey was over, he hoped he would find himself back in her arms. Hadrian waved a final time at her before boarding on, followed by his mother. She patted him on the shoulder with a half smile before leading him towards their private compartment. Hadrian sat near the window and stared at the lolling green fields that were passing him by. His mother smiled at him from across his seat, "Don't worry, Darling. I know you'll love it there. There are theatres and orchestras, and these lovely little coffee shops, and—,"

"Harry. Who is he?" He said, abruptly putting a stop to her coercing.

Her smile faltered a bit before settling into a stiff line.

"I assumed you'd like to know."

"Please." He answered, leaning his head into the seat.

"I trust that what I'm about to tell you is strictly private between us, and only us." She gravely put out.

"Of course. It's not like I have anyone else to tell, Mother."

They briefly exchanged glances, "I think it is time for you to acknowledge something, Hadrian… you have a twin." She flatly stated, slightly smirking at her son's broadening eyes. Few moments passed by before he could utter the next few words, "A- a twin you say?"

"Correct, and I—,"

"You believe he's binded to me?"

"No, I'm quite sure that he's binded to you."

"And this twin…he lives in England?"

"An intelligent guess. I have trained you as well as I could, Dear." She teasingly cooed, also leaning back in her seat.

"Tell me more, is he the one in my dreams?" He gasped out, stiffening his shoulders.

"I have no doubt that he is."

"Then it was all real…all the nightmares that I had." His voice took on a grave tone. "He was beaten and starved, and left there for death. Every night…"

His mother frowned and moved over to his seat. She lovingly held his stiffened self and stated, "We're coming to get him."

"That's not the point! He's my brother and he's been living there with those rancid, filthy muggles, and they've been beating him for Merlin knows how long! I see them, Mother. What they do to him! How they do it! To inflict that on my brother, they're wishing for death!" He grasped his fists protectively.

"Calm down, Hadrian." She cooed, "I'm sure he's fine for now. We're only two hours away."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"Ah!" He cried at the sudden feeling of the leather whip lashing against his back. Someone had ticked Uncle Vernon off today. Harry was dragged out of his bed in the middle of the night and was made to stand for punishment on behalf of whoever had angered his uncle.

"Keep quiet you good for nothing freak! If Petunia hears you scream, I'll make you regret ever being left on my doorstep!" Vernon heatedly growled, quickly letting out three more lashes in rapid precision to one area of his back. He immediately groaned in pain, feeling the skin break and blood dripping down his back. He panted and tried to catch his breath, but failed. The increasing lack of oxygen made his brain go awry and he evidently swayed on spot before dropping to lie on his side. He curled into a protective ball, praying for it to all stop.

"Pathetic." Vernon disgustedly spat, throwing his bloodied belt across the floor.

Harry lay there, relieved when the door finally slammed shut behind him. Why? Why did he have to live here with people who hated him? He questioned himself. He didn't even know why they hated him so. He had never done anything to them. Always trying to be good, he hardly ever got in trouble, and yet they tortured him everyday for their own sadistic pleasure. If people only knew what the Dursleys were actually like behind closed doors.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

One afternoon,

"Vernon! Look at what I found in the mail!" Petunia excitedly screamed, staring at her loving husband as he took his lunch. She eagerly waved a small piece of scarlet red parchment at him as she stalked nearer to the kitchen table.

"What is it?" He grunted, his mouth still openly gnashing away.

She held the paper at face view and began reading,

"Dear winner, you and two others of your choosing are cordially invited to spend the next two weeks cruising through the Mediterranean on our companies own private ship. Enclosed in this envelope, you should find three passes to gain you entry on our ship. This opportunity is hereby fully paid for by our personal benefactor. Should you refuse this once in a lifetime offer, please resend this letter back with your passes. Sincerely, E. Valentine, Co-founder of Ocean Views. Isn't that wonderful darling? It'll be like a small holiday. You, me, and Dudleykins." She cheerfully went on as she poured some tea for her husband. She set it down and handed him the flyer that came in the envelope.

"It all sounds very interesting Petunia, but what are we going to do with 'it'." He sneered at the last word.

She stared at the locked cupboard and also sneered, "This is unfair Vernon! Every time we go on vacation we have to bring him! Why can't it just be us for a change? I mean it, Vernon, I want this trip!" She growled, suddenly angry.

Vernon widened his eyes in surprise at the sudden fright of emotions, "It's not my fault, Petunia. We had conceded that we would take care of him."

She grumpily sighed. "Perhaps we could leave him here. It's only for two weeks. What could possibly happen to him in the span of two weeks?"

"I would love too Petunia, you know that! But…"

"Just this once, Vernon?" She sickeningly pleaded, wrapping her arms around his massive neck. "It's not like 'they' check up on him every second of his miserable life. They won't even notice we were gone." Moving her spider-like fingers around his massive shoulder, she began massaging him into giving in.

He crookedly smiled and inclined his head to peer up at his wife, "Well, alright. I don't see the harm."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Come on Vernon, or we'll be late for the appointed time!" Petunia yelled earnestly from the car.

Vernon was at the front door, firmly glaring at the bedraggled disgrace he had to put up with. "Wherever you are, whatever you're doing— just remember Potter, I'm watching you. If you have any sense of self preservation boy, you'll stay away from trouble for the next two weeks. Understand me?" He grumbled, tightening his hold on the boy's shoulders.

No response came, only a weak groan that clearly protested the abuse.

"Are you retarded now as well, boy? Speak!" He squeezed even harder and evilly grinned when he heard the loud cry of, "Yes, Uncle Vernon!"

"Good." Vernon placed on his cap and strolled to his car. They all carelessly left, smiling and laughing all the way down the street. Harry silently stood at the front door, watching as the mobile van vanished off the corner of the street. Not capable of holding in the enormous grin that seemed to just explode onto his face, he smiled. Finally he was alone. Even if only for a spare amount of time, he was happily and peacefully alone.

About to close the door, he shortly stopped as he saw a blue mail truck come swerving down the road.

Odd, he thought, it was Sunday. There were never any posts on Sundays. The blue truck paused roughly in front of his driveway and a postman got out. The postman, whilst humming a light tune, stepped in front of the Dursley's mailbox and casually placed a letter into it. The postman then retreated back into his truck and drove away; peculiarly not stopping to place any other mail into the neighbor's boxes.

Harry furrowed his brows in confusion before stalking out the doorway towards the white mailbox. Before opening the lid, he stared up and down the streets to see if the local kids were playing a prank on him. Obviously not, there was no other people outside at the moment. Interesting, he arched a perfectly raised brow. Sunday always had people out and about. Mrs. Henderson would usually be outside tending to her garden and Mr. Boiler would be trimming his hedges, and yet there was not a hair in sight.

He shrugged it off as pure coincidence. Perhaps the Summery air was too much for them. Opening the lid, he took out a plain, white envelope and inspected it for the prior greeting. It didn't show. Minutes passed as he searched for it, finding himself becoming more and more interested in what lied behind the white cover. He couldn't possibly open it, Uncle Vernon would skin his hide if he found out. As he was about to give up and lay the forbidden letter aside, the edge sliced across his thumb.

"Ouch." He winced and dropped the damn thing. It actually sliced him. Blood soaked the edge of its white cover and suddenly, to his amazement, the red mark vanished only to be replaced by elegant, black-lined letters that were slowly emerging onto its center. Harry widened his eyes as he read the materializing words,

"Open me."

He peered around the street and nobody was watching him, yet he couldn't help the insecure sense that somebody had their eyes on him. He quickly paced backwards to his house and shut the door. Fastening and securing all the padlocks before proceeding into the living room. He leveled his stare with the letter, but it was ever unchanging.

He began to think that he might've been hallucinating and had overlooked the statement. Of course it was truly there. Things didn't just appear out of nowhere. He unsurely nodded his head in acceptance. That was it. It was there and he just didn't notice.

Scratching the opening off, he took out a thick piece of white, elegant parchment. Harry flipped it over to its backside and saw there were no words written, similar to its front. Before he could even guess what would happen next, words began materializing out of nowhere once again. Harry jumped in fright and threw the letter onto the patio table. Warily treading closer to the parchment, he shakily read the question,

"Can you keep a secret?"

His brow rose in confusion, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Wrong answer." A playful voice stated huskily from in back of him. Harry instantly opened his mouth to scream bloody murder but a hand clasped over his lips and before his brain could even assimilate the distressing feelings, his body stiffened and he was plunged into darkness.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harry unconsciously buried himself deeper into the material he was resting on. The satiny feeling of it glided pleasantly against his skin and the full softness under his body comforted his still aching back. Like a cloud, he thought while smiling in his sleep. Perhaps he had died and gone to heaven? Well then, heaven's beds are most assuredly the best he had ever had the opportunity to sleep in.

"Wake up." The words were softly spoken, the voice fairly recognizable.

An angel maybe? He instinctively arched an eyebrow with his eyes still closed. Opening one eye, he crookedly smiled at what he saw. To himself, he was still oddly disorientated enough to not notice that he was staring at a mural-painted ceiling. Doves and small baby cupids were wondrously drawn across the entire wide span of the room in water colors and oil pastels. It was all richly detailed that perhaps almost real to a clearly put out Harry Potter. He had not even noticed the daunting figure at the foot of his bed or that his hands and feet were bounded by rope.

"So here we are at last." The figure's voice insistently cleared. His wonders mentally blurred and he quickly widened his eyes, whipping his head towards the direction of the voice. Sitting next to the coveted lamp shade with his arms knotted across the broad spread of his torso was an almost exact copy of Harry, with the exception of his eyes— a warm chocolate brown compared to his cold green-emeralds— And perhaps his strapping, elegant exterior. Harry even had to admit to himself that he was malnourished.

He kept a wary gaze on the stranger. Of course, knocking off the fact that the being was his replica, those agonizing russet orbs were unforgettable. He had seen them somewhere; it was practically on the tip of his tongue, the brink of his mind. But who…he thought. And just after that last thought, memories exploded through his mind. He could not stop the clouding visions as they swarmed his brain with clips of dreams and reveries that varied from when he was awake and daydreaming until he was asleep in his cot. All of them were of his duplicated self.

After the initial shock wore off, Harry opened his lips and loosely stumbled on his words, "Y-you look the same as me!"

"Your deductive reasoning is fairly adequate, which means that I hadn't hit you as hard as I thought." Came the pleased response.

"You were in my dreams!" Harry gasped out once again.

"As you were in mine." The ladder stated cheekily.

"Who are you? Why do you look like me?" He shakily screamed, pausing to widen his eyes at the braces tied to his hands and feet.

Ignoring Harry's question, his look-alike drifted closer and inclined his head curiously. "I hoped the dreams weren't so true…" The stranger put out. "You're so skinny…" he blindingly inspected Harry's weak figure from top to bottom. Harry immediately began to lean away. His kidnapper was donned in a fine linen white button-up and fitted black slacks that seemed all too posh compared to his overly large tee-shirt and red pajama bottoms.

"What are you playing at?" Harry uncomfortably snapped.

His kidnapper leaned amusingly closer to his face and huskily stated, "You're as fragile as a baby bird."

"I am not! Now tell me what you want with me!" He defended, pulling at his tied left hand to get farther away.

"I want you to calm down and take a deep breath. And I won't let you off those chains until you have."

Harry gawked at him, "Th-that's it? You're not going t-to kill me?"

"My dear brother, if I were to kill you then it would be down-right suicide on my part. There's still so much I have to do." His kidnapper rang out in amusement.

"Brother?" Harry was winded. He was in a room with a psychotic loon who happened to look exactly the same as him..

"Yes. In fact, twin brother, but maybe you've already noticed that." His so-called brother hinted amusingly, gazing at him with a teasing lilt.

"B-but how? I don't have a brother." He murmured, the last sentence coming out to sound like a question.

"I guess you don't have a choice now, brother. We're connected, you and I."

"Stop lying! You're not my sibling! I've never had one!" He furiously screamed.

"It sounds oddly like you're trying to assure yourself, Harry."

Harry broadened his eyes even further, if possible. "H-how do you know my name?"

"I've known you all my life, brother, but the cut on your thumb confirmed it." His twin leaned over towards his left thumb and smirked as Harry hovered away. "It confirmed your magical binding to me, and I to you. You're a wizard, Harry, and you're my brother." Harry cautiously gazed at those smoldering brown orbs. He couldn't trust this stranger, could he?

"My name is Hadrian."

Harry found no malicious intent, or a lingering craze in the latter's eyes, but that was no reason to pull down his guard.

"I do apologize for tying you up like this, but it wouldn't do well if you woke up and started wondering around by yourself." Hadrian stated, snapping his fingers. The ropes that bounded Harry to the bed immediately vanished. "You're no longer in Muggle London." He exclaimed, inclining his head at the balcony window.

Harry raised his eyebrow at this and kicked off the satin blankets. As he placed his feet on the ground, his knees were wobbly and his body felt unsettled. Soft hands were placed on each side of his waist to keep him upright and away from the carpeted ground. He tried to push away but the strong hold over him would have none of that. Hadrian guided him to the large window and the closer they got, the more Harry saw of the lower streets. The height of where they stood made him somewhat nauseated but amazed to see all the small markets and towns from such a high place. It didn't quite look like anything from London. More like a bazaar if anything else he could think of.

But that wasn't what had him absolutely bewildered. A boy about twice his age was somehow flying on a broom and heading straight towards his window. With sudden fear, Harry jumped away from the glass, afraid that the young man would crash into the solid window. A low chuckle rang from in back of him as hands calmly clasped around his frightened body. "He's our mail deliverer." The voice teased.

Harry peered back to see that the person had stopped right at their balcony and was carefully placing a package in front of the window. He paid no heed to them and quickly sprang back onto his broom to continue his routes.

"H-how was he able to fly?" Harry muttered, vaguely interested as he continued watching the broom drift away.

"The muggle legends happen to be true about one thing…We, witches and wizards can fly magical brooms. And there's Quidditch Harry, I'm sure you'll love that. I'll even teach you myself." Hadrian proudly stated, still covering his brother in his arms.

Harry nodded, still staring at the multiple brooms speeding through the air.

"But I've got to get your pledge. Are you staying with me, or do you want to go back to them?" Hadrian finished with a hint of distain. Harry peered up at his brother; a saddened look had overtaken his amused expression. Hadrian stared imploringly at him, "I've seen what they do to you, Harry. Mother and I will take you away from all that and give you a new world to call your own. No one will ever tell you what to do while you're here, and we'll never hurt you. If you desire it, I'll even kill those filthy muggles for their acts against you." The seething anger that seemed to come off of Hadrian in waves affected Harry's emotions in someway. It made him feel irritated at the Dursleys, like they were a bug that needed to be gotten rid of. He had always hated the Dursleys, but he never wanted to actually kill them.

"So what do you say? Come live with me?" The suggestion was said in a tone that was suddenly blithe and chipper.

Lightened by the prospect of finally ridding himself of his horrible aunt, uncle, and cousin, he couldn't help but wonder the dangers of getting caught. What if Uncle Vernon comes back and finds him gone? He had once ran away from home and was caught by a patrolling constable. When he was back in the clutches of his uncle, the result wasn't pretty and left him sleeping on his stomach for the later five days. Swallowing a sob, Harry shakily exclaimed, "I don't know. What if Uncle Vernon catches me? He'll be angry and he'll punish me for it." Tears flowed down his cheeks as he remembered all those times in the basement. This was a dream, he'd wake up soon to the coldness and death-like environment.

"That snake won't dare lay even a single finger on you unless he wants to get it chopped off." The ominous tone stated before changing to a more gentle tenor, "I'll protect you." Hadrian placed his pale, smooth palm against his brother's cheek, pleading for him to make the right decision.

After several minutes of fighting with himself, Harry quietly nodded his consent, "Alright then."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx


End file.
